


You're The Song Stuck In My Heart

by literlarry_real



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Exes to Lovers- kind of, Happy ending though, M/M, Miscommunication, No Smut, a little fluff, angsty i guess, songs are important, they are all friends from secondary school/6th form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-05 10:12:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11575950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literlarry_real/pseuds/literlarry_real
Summary: Louis and Harry may or may not have dated the summer before starting uni in different cities. Louis and Harry may or may not have not talked about their feelings for each other before moving to said cities and starting their undergraduate degree. Louis and Harry may or may not have stopped talking to each other all together. Now that they are home for Christmas break and will definitely have to spend time together thanks to their mutual friends, Louis and Harry  will have to talk things out. Maybe.orHarry may hate Louis for having to skip all his favorite songs, because they remind him of the best summer he ever spent with Louis, and of all the things that could've been but didn't.





	You're The Song Stuck In My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! 
> 
> So I wrote this monster of a fic in two weeks, thanks to no internet at home right now (and therefore no distractions). I first got the idea back in March or April during exam week, so I just kept it in the back of my mind. This is very loosely inspired by Songs I can’t listen to by Neon Trees, but I also got some inspiration from listening to some other angsty songs here and there.  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this unbeta'd and unbritpicked fic and hope that the mistakes I made aren't glaringly obvious. 
> 
> I want to thank Suzon and Ana specifically for reading some snippets and getting excited over them, and for providing me with copious amounts of motivation. Love you lots!
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think, either here or on tumblr (literlarryreal).

****_Was it you who-_  
Skip.   
_I found a lo-_  
Skip.

_Sweeeeeet dis- po-_  
Skip.  
_Cradle me, I'll cradle you, win your heart with a-_  
SKIP.

It's official. Harry's shuffle is undoubtedly conspiring against him. He lets out an exasperated groan. Why can't his shuffle play the songs he actually _wants_ to listen to for once, just once? Actually, want might be the wrong word. If his shuffle actually liked him, it would only play the songs Harry can actually listen to. He knows he is being ridiculous in some way, but he can't help it. It is what it is, him connecting memories to songs and all that. It’s been what, three, four months, and he still finds himself not being able to listen to more songs than he cares to admit. Too many songs that remind him when he’s not ready to remember.

Harry can however admit that he is probably more nervous than he should be, than the impending evening warrants. Although, who wouldn’t be at least slightly anxious when meeting his best mates from sixth form again after their first semester at uni. Yes, they had spoken with each other on the regular for the most part, kept in touch just like they had promised, but it feels different. Of course it does. No matter how hard Harry tries not to think about it, they have not seen each other since September, and no matter how hard one may try to avoid it, living on your own, attending university, beginning to live a proper grown- up life and having actual responsibilities changes people. He himself has just come back home from uni yesterday, straight after his last exam, more than ready for Christmas break. It still feels surreal, how quickly his childhood home went from feeling like a refuge, a proper home home to just another roof above his head. He hates feeling like a guest in his own house. His Mum putting tumble-dried and folded towels at the end of his bed has not helped to minimize the hotel feeling. Hopefully that's just temporary. Harry is somewhat glad that he made plans for his first proper night back. While he does want to catch up with his mum and is looking forward to seeing Gems again (he'd deny ever even thinking such), he is also looking forward to seeing his friends, having something somewhat normal in his hometown, and continuing a tradition they all seem to be eager to keep up.

He doesn’t have any illusions about how the night is likely going to play out. It will definitely be awkward at first, but then somebody, probably Niall, will get another round, make one of his usual jokes (like telling everybody off for drinking “water” and how he is the only one drinking proper beer with his pint of guinness) like the Irish lad he is, and the stale small talk will switch to telling stories about their adventures at uni, before getting more or less plastered and ending up going home sometime past midnight. Harry has talked to Gemma about her uni experiences enough to know how these things usually go. There is however, a wildcard in today’s get together, that leaves Harry nervous because he has no idea what to anticipate. The wildcard’s name is Louis Tomlinson, former best friend from school, also sort-of ex-boyfriend but who the fuck knows really, and most recently, someone Harry has not talked to since he sent him a text message telling him he safely arrived at uni and wishing Louis good luck at his, promising to call and visit soon. Which had been exactly 100 days ago. Not that Harry was counting.

A look on his phone tells him that he has to leave soon if he doesn’t want to be late. Because that's tardy and nobody likes tardy people. He grabs his phone and wallet, straightens out his hair and walks downstairs to put on his shoes and winter coat. Harry walks into the kitchen where Robin and his mum are having dinner, wishes them both a lovely meal and a great night, promises to call or text if he comes back later than 2am (a rule from his school days), and presses a kiss into the fur of their somewhat reluctant cat Dusty before grabbing his keys and walking out the door.

Growing up in a small town luckily means that his way to "their" pub is only a brisk 15 minute walk through the cold and wintery air. He puts his earbuds in before they have any chance of getting cold (Harry hates the feeling of cold earbuds in his ears) and puts on his "Not ruined" playlist. He is aware that the name of the playlist is somewhat childish, but the little rebellion feels good. So does being able to listen to songs without having to skip any on the way to the little reunion with his friends.

**____________________**

When Harry arrives at _The Compass_ he sees Niall waiting outside, stomping from one foot to the other, seemingly to keep warm, hand in his pockets. Harry only recognizes him at a second glance, and solely because the jacket he is wearing looks familiar. Niall ditched his bleached hair for his natural brown colour since starting university, and while it makes him look more grown-up, Harry is sure that it will take him some time to get used to non-blonde Niall.

"Nialler, mate, lovely to see you, almost didn't recognize you as a brunette!" They hug, swaying from one side to the other before giving each other a pat on the back and letting go.

"Look at you H, growing your hair out?"

Harry nods. "Kinda felt like it, and it keeps my head warm for winter."

He rubs his hands together, blowing on them in an attempt to warm them a little.  
"Want to go inside and claim a table before the others arrive?" Niall agrees to that and they walk inside the pub.

_The Compass_ looks like it has always looked. Slightly rundown, dark wooden tables, a miss-match of chairs, a pub like you would find it pictured in the dictionary. The lights are slightly dimmed, the candles on the tables have yet to be lit, and the radio is providing the perfect background music. When Jim, the owner/ bartender recognizes the pair of them and tells them their usual table in the back corner with view to one of the screens showing a footie match is free, Harry feels oddly proud though he is not sure why. Maybe because the recognition makes him feel more like is actually home, spending time in the familiar surroundings of his childhood and youth. Harry takes off his coat and puts his phone in the back-pocket of his black skinny jeans before going up to the bar and ordering himself a pint.

"Same as always?"

"Same as always. And a Guinness for the Leprechaun. He's got to uphold the Irish stereotypes in ye good ole England apparently. His words, not mine."

With a pint in each hand he joins Niall back at the table and they soon fall into a relaxed conversation.  
One after the other, the rest of their group arrive.  
Liam is the first to join them, accompanied by Sophia, Jodie and Ellie. Seems to Harry like he picked the girls up by car just like he used to do last summer. A task Liam had naturally  taken up as the one living the furthest away, having a girlfriend and not minding being designated driver every now and then. Harry doesn't let himself dwell on the fact that Liam and Sophia made it through their first semester of uni despite the long distance, or that he wishes they had made it too. 

When Calvin, Oli and Stan arrive without their fourth musketeer Harry gets his hopes up slightly. Maybe, just maybe there's a slim chance he won't have to see and interact with Louis tonight. Maybe this evening will actually turn out alright. The bliss of allowing himself a slight flicker of hope lasts for a full 15 minutes, or his first pint, before Calvin makes an off-hand comment about Louis being late because he wanted to put Ernest and Doris to bed since he hadn't had the chance to do so lately.   
Harry's stomach drops, and he he knows he can't blame it on the alcohol, or his lack of dinner. He finds himself seated between Liam, who is busy chatting away with Soph and Jodie, and Stan, who happens to be Louis' oldest friend. This might get interesting. He makes a little smalltalk with the lad, talking about their professors, but the conversation doesn't seem to kick of properly as Stan's answers are short and he rarely asks any questions in return.  
Harry excuses himself to the loo after a polite amount of time where he freshens up, tells his reflection in the mirror to suck it up, fluffs up his hair and makes his way to the bar for another pint on the way back.

It takes him a moment to realize that his seat has been claimed since he left not even five minutes ago. The chair is now occupied by a rather small, curvy lad talking loudly with a suddenly very interested Stan, his unmistakably Yorkshire accent carrying through the pub with ease. Louis looks different, somewhat more mature, with his stubble and the burgandy jumper. Harry takes a big gulp of his beer and looks for Niall, finding him on the other side of their table sharing an assortment of foods with Ellie. Harry grins to himself. Old habits die hard it seems, and always- hungry Niall and Ellie, who used to come to the pub straight from practice, still like sharing their chips and nachos. Sour cream and salsa for Ellie, Guacamole for Niall, the chips with salt and vinegar. He grabs a chair and joins them, listening to their conversation before butting in, and soon after he finds himself almost forgetting about Louis on the other side of the table.

Ellie, Niall and him find themselves talking about how little they remember of their Fresher's week and how hungover or not they were for their first class, and how dreadful their 8am classes are. Niall brags about having Friday's off which Harry counters by reminding them that he only had one 8am class, when he notices movement from the other side of the table. And sure enough, out of the corner of his eyes he sees Louis standing up and making his way towards them. Harry's palms get clammy and he grabs his pint again, trying to calm himself by taking a few big gulps. By the time he puts the glass down again, Louis shimmies his way between Harry's chair and the next table. Harry clears his throat.

"Hi Louis"

He is quite chuffed with himself, managing to make sure his voice was fairly neutral. Friendly but not too friendly, like he would greet Stan and Calvin if he met them on the street. Louis stops for a split second before picking up his speed hurrying away to the bar, not saying a word to Harry. Louis definitely heard him, but still chooses to completely ignore him, like he is invisible. So they are going to play the "I don't know you and am therefore ignoring you" game.   
Fine.   
Twat.  
Two can play this game, and Harry has a good chance at winning. Nobody does passive aggressive silence like him. At least so he has been told by Gemma. Multiple times. And Gems is excellent and giving trustworthy testimonials (again, Harry would deny ever thinking such).

He realizes that he's been quiet a little too long for it to pass unnoticed when he feels Ellie and Niall staring at him. He shrugs, rolls his eyes at Niall and steals a nacho, which earns him loud protest and a laugh. Harry gets up and gets the three of them another pint, and almost bends over from laughing so hard when Ellie pretends to be all serious, straightening out her invisible blazer, clearing her throat and declaring "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to make an announcement. The food is still as legendary as it was in September. Thank you ever so much for your attention" before sitting down again, taking the tiniest sip from her beer, pinky up. Louis manages to take a backseat in Harry's mind after that, and he joins Jodie, Liam and Sophia when his third pint is almost finished, relaxing into a rather uncomfortable chair and listening to them babble about, trying not to think about how the color of his beer in the candle light almost resembles the caramel tinge of Louis' fringe during sunsets. Okay, so maybe Louis wasn't able to take a backseat in his mind. He shakes his head and looks at his phone. 11:08pm. Time has really flown by. But then again, it always does when they have their pub nights. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts once more and declares to the entire table that he's getting a round of shots before grabbing his wallet again and making his way to the bar for the fourth time this evening.

When he comes back with nine shots (because Liam is driving) and distributes them among his friends (and Louis. Louis deserves an extra category, though Harry is not sure if that is a good thing) he humbly accepts the Thanks you's. Back at Niall's end of the table he stands on his chair, raises the shot glass without stumbling or dropping it (which would not have been the first time) and toasts "to friends, fireball, and festivities" ("and a fierce love for Ireland" Niall buds in loudly, earning him laughter from other tables as well) before taking the hand Ellie offers to get back down to the floor safely. He downs his shot, closing his eyes in appreciation for a moment, enjoying the buzz and warmth of the alcohol spreading through his veins, finally being able to fully relax.  
The feeling ends abruptly when he opens his eyes again, meets Louis's blue eyes across the table and sees how Louis pushes his shot glass towards Stan, almost daringly, as if it were an act of defiance. He does so while holding eye contact with Harry, acknowledging him for the first time since September, for the first time in 100 days.

And just like that, Harry is done, so done and over this night. He stands up abruptly, grabs his coat and starts making the rounds, leaving Liam for last. Because Liam will only take one look at him and he will know. If Harry were honest with himself he'd admit that he's not sure whether he wants Liam to ask him about it (whatever _it_ is, it's the reason for the lump in his throat) or not. Saying bye to the girls and the lads is easy; he feigns being tired from exams and the last 48h in general, and they seem to buy into it. After all, it's not a complete lie. More of a half truth though. He is glad that Louis is nowhere to be seen.  
Niall is too tipsy and happy to be surrounded by all of his favorite mates from school to notice how uncharacteristically quiet Harry has gotten, especially after three pints and that shot. They hug goodbye and Niall only leaves him be after Harry promises to make up for leaving him early.  
He then finally makes his way over to Liam who is currently talking to Sophia, but it only takes him one look at Harry to walk him to the side, away form their table. Harry knows why he saved Liam for last.

"You alright, H?"

"I don't know. Quite tired."

Liam rolls his eyes at that statement but chooses not to question him further, which Harry appreciates. The lump in his throat is still there.

"We're grabbing a coffee tomorrow."

Fuck, okay. No escaping then.

"You're a Payne in the arse, Liam."

Before Liam can reply they get interrupted by Louis, tipsy and radiant, practically glowing, as bouncy and beautiful as ever, shoving himself in front of Liam, blatantly ignoring Harry. Liam raises his eyebrow, shooting a questioning look across Louis' shoulder. Harry shrugs.  
"PAYNO! Let's play a game!" There is excitement in Louis' voice, loud, on the verge of breaking, and a tab bit shrill, as he waves a 50p coin in Liam's face. If he didn't know better he'd think Louis might be overcompensating for something. Like the fact that everybody knows Liam won't touch any alcohol tonight because he's driving his girlfriend home. Whatever. Harry know what follows will be Louis' usual chat up to start a drinking game.

"Come on Li. Heads or tails? Heads for Hennessy, tails for Tequila. You in?"

Harry is out.

He leaves, angry at the stupid lump in his stupid throat, and the stupid tears welling up in his stupid eyes.

**____________________**

In the end, Harry doesn't know how it happens. He could blame it on his exhaustion finally catching up, or being tipsy (although that would be very far fetched, his walks home almost always manage to sober him up quite a bit), or just being tired of denying himself things because they remind him of Louis. If he is being honest though, he can't.

When he comes home he manages to open the front door quietly (not like that one time he had to sleep over at Louis' because they had forgotten to take the key out after locking it from the inside so Harry had not been able to open the door at all, and hadn't woken up even after Harry had called them on all of their phones), knowing that is is fairly early and Robin and Mum have probably just gone to bed so he better not wake them. He takes his coat and shoes off, scribbles a note saying "'Home. Came back before 2. Love you, H. xx" and moves to the bathroom where he quickly brushes his teeth and undresses, putting his clothes in the hamper.   
With his wallet, earphones, and phone in his hand he slips into his room unnoticed (he thinks) and turns on his shuffle as he can't be arsed to find a proper playlist in his state.   
It starts out well, some soothing Hans Zimmer soundtrack, Pearl Harbor maybe, followed by Mumford&Sons. Apparently his shuffle does know how to play the songs that Harry wants/is able to listen to after all.   
Well, at least shuffle knows how to behave for two  full songs. Two.   
The third song is Talk me down by Troye Sivan.  
And usually, Harry's reaction would be to skip the song after recognizing it (which is after the first chord. Something that Harry would usually be proud of if it wasn't for it being a Louis song). Right now though, as he is on the brink of falling asleep, all limbs safely covered by his blanket with no ambition to leave the warmth just to skip the last song he'll consciously hear before being taken into Dreamland, he doesn't.

The first chord is followed by the second, is followed by the third and fourth and then, for the first time in 100 days, Harry hears Troye Sivan's soft voice.

_I wanna sleep next to you, but that's all I wanna do right now  
_ _And I wanna come home to you, but home is just a room full of our safest sounds_

**____________________**

"Do you want to come in?"

They were meeting up at Harry's before joining the others at the pub, having not had much time to themselves, just the two of them, for ages. It had just felt natural to meet before an already planned social event, since both of them would definitely have some time to spare.

"You know I would've come in regardless of whether you'd've asked me in or not, right, Haz?"

"I know, but unlike you I have manners."

They hugged, maybe slightly longer than usual, Harry burying his chin in the nape of Louis' neck, and only letting go when Louis started poking Harry's side, making him squeal.  
Harry poured himself a glass of water and made Louis his iced Yorkshire tea ("Honestly, bub, I don't know how you manage to make me Yorkshire just how I like it AND are able to make cold Yorkshire not taste like a forgotten cuppa" may or may not have made Harry blush slightly. Or maybe it was just a little redness from enjoying the rare summer sun) before moving to the patio. When else would they be able to use it if not on this one day in late May that actually felt like proper summer.

They had just talked about nothing and anything really, starting with school (or lack thereof, now that A- Levels were over and they had an alarming amount of free time until  uni stared in September) but quickly moved on to family, football, and Harry's job at the bakery (though only shortly, and only for Harry to tell Louis once again that he was not allowed to give out freebies before the end of the day). Conversation flowed as easily as ever, they had not been best friends for no reason for the past 6 years after all, and they were content sipping on their cool drinks and snacking on the cherries Harry's mum must've brought out without them noticing.  
They finally settled on music when Harry found Louis absentmindedly humming an unknown melody.

"Hadn't even noticed I was humming it, sorry"

"No, 's okay, I like it. What song is it?"

Did Louis just blush? Highly unlikely. Must be the summer sun on his face, bringing out the freckles on his cheek. And the tan made Louis' eyes appear even bluer than they already were.

"Are you sure you want to listen to it, Haz? 'm not sure you'll like it" Louis tried to evade the question, but Harry insisted.

"Of course I'll love it, Lou! When have I ever not liked anything you've shown me?"

Louis went back inside to grab his iPod and a little speaker.

Harry was a little nervous. Talking about music, and sharing music with anybody had always felt so personal to him, like sharing a piece of oneself with somebody else, and he had known Louis long enough to know he felt the same about music. It felt like the ultimate bond, the definite proof of undeniable trust. Harry felt honored that Louis was willing to share that song with him. It's not like they hadn't shared music with each other before, but it had been more of an off-hand "I like this song" type of spiel.  
This somehow felt different. The summer evening became chilly and Harry rubbed his arms, trying to warm himself up. No point in going inside to put a sweater on when Louis was coming back any minute to share this new song with him.  
When Louis came back to the patio, music in his hands, he looked a little forlorn, almost unsure, which was very unlike him.

"Seems like this song is important to you, hm? Want to tell me why?"

Louis shook his head. "Don't think I'll need to, 's kinda self- explanatory."

He connected the iPod to the speakers, selected the song and sat down next to Harry, leaning against his shoulder. Harry puts his arm around him, drawing Louis a little closer.

Louis pressed play.

The opening chords were as soft as Louis when he was tired, sitting at the breakfast table with his cuppa, when he was laying on Harry's daybed in deep thought while Harry was trying to concentrate on finishing his homework, when he was putting his youngest siblings to bed and then stayed by their cribs watching them sleep. It was like the soft look Louis tended to have whenever he was surrounded by what made him the happiest.

_I wanna sleep next to you, but that's all I wanna do right now  
_ _And I wanna come home to you, but home is just a room full of our safest sounds_

Harry was in love with a song. And how much it reminded him of Louis and their friendship. He wrapped himself around the shorter guy, bringing him into a full, yet slightly uncomfortable because they were sitting next to each other on the sofa, embrace.   
Louis hugged him back, holding him tightly as if he was afraid he'd be washed away, like Harry was anchoring him. They listened in complete silence, just holding each other. Harry noticed how Louis dug his fingers into his back, and how his head was resting against Harry's  chest, his breaths ghosting over Harry's shirt, how Louis had draped his legs over Harry's lap. Noticed how close they were. Noticed how he wasn't cold anymore but still had goosebumps, albeit for a different reason. Noticed that his heart was beating slightly faster. Noticed how perfectly Louis' head fit underneath his chin.   
The 3:57 minutes of the song passed quicker than anticipated and suddenly they were just surrounded by chirping birds and humming bees, and there were cars in the distance, and the sound of the stream nearby making its way through the neighborhood once again. Neither of them wanted to be the first one to speak, to break this magical silence.  
Harry couldn't wait to listen to the song again. Hear those lyrics and feel close to Louis.   
He reached his hand out, pressing replay and felt Louis chuckle against his chest when the opening chords played. Somehow they ended up laying on the sofa more than sitting on it, still entangled with each other. Louis was softly humming along to the song, the sound muffled by Harry's shirt. Harry joined in after a while, his breaths moving Louis' hair like a summer breeze.   
When they finished listening to the song a second time it was Louis who wordlessly hit the replay button, and so they listened to it for a third time that evening.  
When Harry reached out for the replay button once again he was interrupted by Louis voice, more a whisper than anything else.

"So you like the song then?"

"Like is a bit of an understatement, Lou. Love feels more accurate. Thank you so much for showing me. Who is it by?"

"Yeah, I figured. You were about to press replay to listen to it for a fourth time after all. 's Talk me down by Troye Sivan, by the way."

"Gotta listen to Troye once more then, do we."

Louis laughed so hard he almost kicked them both off the sofa, but they did end up listening to Talk me down for a fourth time in the end, cuddling, enjoying the summer evening being close together, not a care in the world.  
They ended up arriving at _The Compass_ last out of their group, and while everybody was already slightly buzzing from their first drinks, Louis and Harry were buzzing for another reason.

**____________________**

Harry wakes up the next morning with an aching head, an aching heart and a lump in his throat that is accompanied by a knot in his stomach, and he doesn't know where this all comes from. Until he remembers falling asleep listening to Talk me down and how his dreams were laced with memories of Louis showing him the song for the first time, and summer nights and cuddles and _LouisLouisLouis.  
_ Harry severely dislikes his tipsy and tired self from yesterday that wasn't willing to sacrifice a cold hand for two seconds to skip the song. Even if he still loves the song. But with the song come memories and tight tummies and flashes of blue eyes and freckles on tanned cheeks and Harry just doesn't want those, thank you very much.

It's not that he minds any of those in particular though, it's more that he doesn't know what to do with the memories. Right now, they are just recollections of events from the past, but Harry doesn't know how and where to sort them. He can't declare the memories to be just bad and in the past and to be never remembered ever again, because they did have an amazing summer, and Louis is still part of his group of friends if anything. But he can't declare the memories to be just good either, and a fond experience to look back on and tell your grandkids about, because, well, Louis is barely in his life at the moment and evidently tries to ignore him whenever their paths do cross. And then there's the fact that whatever it was between them isn't over just yet. Why does it have to be so complicated? Why couldn't they at least have a clean cut, a definite answer, instead of this grey cloudy thing Harry is left with now?

In retrospect, rarely anything about _LouisandHarry_  had ever been 100% clear. It had just progressed naturally from being best friends to spending more and more time together and doing more and more stuff just the two of them, but they had never called those occasions dates. Not officially. They had held hands and pecked each other's cheeks and cuddled, but they had done that as friends as well, though maybe not as frequently. Harry doesn't let himself think about their first and only kiss because that is where he thinks everything started falling apart. The only thing Harry knows is that he fell for his best friend who evidently ended up not feeling the same, judging from the fact that Louis pretends neither Harry nor their shared past exist in any capacity.  
Harry wants to be able to move on, to put an end to this uncertainty, all those what if's and but's. He's had enough of that since September and quite frankly, yesterday's pub shenanigans showed him that he needs that clear answer now more than ever in order to be able to move on. From last summer, from Louis, from love.

If only that were so easy, because Harry is bloody invisible to Louis.

**____________________**

On the one hand, Harry hopes Liam forgot about his statement? threat? invitation? to grab coffee today. On the other hand, he needs to talk to _somebody_ about how he feels and what is going on between Louis and him, because clearly other people have noticed that they are far from being the _LouisandHarry_ from last summer. From 101 days ago.  
Turns out that Liam did not forget, as Harry receives a whatsapp message consisting of the coffeecup emoji and a fullstop. Seems like Harry still doesn't have a choice.  
He meets Liam at Costa in the afternoon, and something on Harry's face must say he's not well because the first thing Liam does is envelop him in a bear hug. They stand like that for what feels like a good five minutes before walking in, ordering their Americanos, Harry's with almond milk.

"So, what's going on between you and Louis?" Liam goes right for the issue after taking a sip of his coffee. No smalltalk then, okay.

Harry grimaces. "The fuck do I know, Li."

"That bad? Oh Harry- H, no, come here." He slings an arm around Harry like Harry imagines a big brother would do, because tears may or may not have welled up in his eyes at Liam's statement.

Liam rubs his shoulder reassuringly and suddenly Harry just talks, lets it all out.

He tells Liam about how it started , the two of them going on their many _LouisandHarry_ adventures, tells him about the songs and the cuddles (and ignores Liam's raised eyebrow), tells him about their first and only kiss and what didn't happen after, and how he felt Louis pushing away but ignoring it to enjoy the rest of the summer. Tells him about avoiding talking about their uni decisions until it came up in their friend group, tells him about packing and reminiscing, and picking out a uni present for Louis, tells him about arriving at uni, a uni that is 90 minutes from Louis' uni for god's sake, and sending Louis that text. Harry tells Liam that he has not spoken to or heard from Louis since that text 101 days ago.  
When he is done telling the story it is dark outside and Harry has no idea for how long he talked. He feels empty, emotionally drained, but he is glad that he finally told someone everything. He is so glad that Liam noticed and got him to talk, and then just listened.   
Harry's Americano is barely lukewarm when he takes a sip, not really helping his dried mouth.  
Liam clears his throat.

"Uhm, mate, that's…. Honestly I don't really know what to say here, that's a lot"

"Tell me about it" Harry mutters.

"You know you need to talk to Louis about this, right? Tell him what you told me?"

"Yeah, if only that was this easy. Did you see how he completely ignored me yesterday? _Heads for Hennessy, tails for tequila_ my arse. He knew you were DD for Soph, Ellie and Jodie."

Liam shrugs.

"You've got to at least try. You'll never know if you never try."

"I mean, yeah, but… He is literally ignoring me. Like I'm not even in the room, Liam!"

"I know, I saw that, but—

You know what, you should come to his birthday party on the 23rd, it's at his house again. There will be other people and I'll be there as well if you need moral support or a fist to bump, whatever."  
Liam does have a point. Harry had no intention of attending the party up until now regardless of being invited (and not being uninvited), and he is certain Louis does not want him there anyways, but maybe Liam is right.  
If Harry wants an answer, a clean cut, a line drawn, then he has to get Louis to talk to him. He needs Louis to stop ignoring him, and he's going to make the first step to get there. And the easiest opportunity to do so is in two days at Louis' birthday party. He's ready for it.

**____________________**

Harry is not sure he's ready for it. He shows up at Louis' birthday party at 9:30 pm when the party has already been started (the invitation was for 8 but Harry had dinner with his nan who was in town for Christmas and it was a welcome excuse). A tipsy Liam opens the door, ushers him inside and gives him a beer before Harry even has the chance to take his coat off. After a giggled "You go, Glen Coco" from the lad he is left alone in the hallway, beer in one hand, present in the other.  He manages to take his coat off and slowly makes himself walk towards the living room, feet moving to the beat. Deeps breaths Harry, you can do this, he assures himself, but it's not really working. This is important.  
He spots Louis in the middle of the room, drawing all the attention to himself, a pint of what seems to be rum and coke in one hand, the other arms flailing around to the music.  
He looks beautiful like that his last day as a 20 year-old, so happy to be surrounded by all of his friends, some unknown faces that must be friends from uni among their friends from school.

The song ends and Louis excuses himself from the group, walking over to the kitchen to grab himself a water? drink? snack? when he seems to notice Harry standing in the opening. Harry quickly takes a sip of his trusty beer, trying to mask the fact that he was definitely not staring, no m'am. He braces himself for whatever Louis might do next, now that he has seen Harry at his party. Another round of "hide and ignore" probably. Harry's shoulders slump automatically. So much for getting Louis to talk to him. Well, at least he tried.

"Hi Harry. Good to see you here."

Harry's eyes dart up from the floor just to realize that yes, this is indeed Louis William Tomlinson speaking to him. Speaking. To him. After 103 days of ignoring him. Maybe Christmas miracles do exist.

"Course I am, wouldn't miss it for the world. Happy early birthday Louis." Cool, Styles, keep it cool. Casual. Harry hands him the present. It had originally been intended as Louis' uni present but now is as good a circumstance as ever. Louis puts his glass down on the counter behind him and tears into the wrapping paper. Some things never change. Harry allows himself to grin slightly.

Louis' hands tremble for a bit when he pulls out the present, some undefined emotion crossing his eyes for a moment. It's one of the IKEA plush footballs, white with green hexagons.

"Hope you like it. Figured you needed a replacement since I still have yours somewhere.."

Harry knows exactly where Louis' old plush footie is. A little more grey, and with blue hexagons, probably still smelling faintly of Louis. It is stashed away in a box in his wardrobe, behind his summer t-shirt, next to the grey beanie Louis had refused to take off after an appointment at the hairdresser's had left him with shorter hair that he had wanted.

"Thanks, mate, appreciate it. Can't believe you remembered. Color's nice too."

Louis puts down the footie with the pile of other presents, pats him on the shoulder once (no, Harry can not still feel the touch lingering two beers and three shots later) and turns around to join his friends for the next song, his hips slightly swaying (not that Harry would notice). Harry downs the rest of his beer and joins Niall after spotting him across the room, thankfully a few feet away from Louis. They are soon joined by Liam (and therefore Sophia, Jodie and Ellie because where one of them goes the other one is usually not far behind) and they enjoy themselves getting more and more tipsy, and then tipsy turns to slightly pissed. The music playlist is amazing (not that Harry would ever expect anything else from Louis) and he is letting loose, thankful for the flimsy shirt he decided to put on before leaving his parents' house (since it is a little too scandalous for a dinner with his Nan). When he does get a little too hot he goes outside to catch some fresh air on the patio, starting a little smalltalk with a southern European looking guy who introduces himself as Luke and apparently knows Louis from one of their business classes.

Their conversation fades out sooner rather than later and Harry is about to walk back inside when he hears those familiar chords and immediately feels like walking away from it as far as possible, until he doesn't have to endure the song any longer.

**____________________**

So, Harry's vision might be a little blurrier than expected and he might feel a little wobbly. More wobbly than he usually is, his long legs are definitely not helping his coordination. Neither is his intoxication. Woohoo, still able to remember those -ation words, take that, Ms. Ansell from Year 4. Although Harry is not sure that intoxication was on that list. He doesn't remember, it's been aaaaages. Sorry. Okay, Harry is definitely tipsy. Just a little though. A teeny-weeny tiny-winy bit. Oops?  
Harry needs some water. Yes. Water. There will be some in the kitchen. He saw Louis….  
He definitely needs water. A full bucket. Over his head. But then he'd be wet and it's cold outside. Maybe just a glass of water then. To drink. Yeah. Harry is getting a glass of water to drink some water because … Harry can't remember.

Oh, that song is playing. He loves that song!! Louis and him used to play that song in the car all the time last summer!! They would go on these random trips in Jay's old VW and just aimlessly drive through the countryside, stopping at a pub for some non- alcoholic beverages, playing Queen up and down the roads and singing along to every song. Harry remembers the pure bliss of sitting next to Louis and his cheeks hurting from laughing so much and the carelessness and just spending time with his Louis and— Ooh. Harry hates that song. His body doesn't get the memo though and shimmies back inside the living room. Might as well dance while getting some water. Harry is thirsty. But that doesn't stop him from shouting out the lyrics, pointing his finger at random people.

_I'm floating around in ecstasy_   
_so_   
_DONT_   
_STOP_   
_ME_   
_NOW._   
_Don't_   
_Stop_   
_Me  
Cause I'm having a good time, having a GOOD TIME I'M A SHOOTING STAR LEAPING THROUGH THE SKIES _

Harry miraculously makes it to the kitchen. He doesn't bother getting a glass out of the cupboard (probably for the better, not sure he'd be able to not let is fall to the floor and Jay would be very cross with him if he broke a glass) and just drinks straight from the tab, some water running a little across his face and down his chin. That feels good. He turns the faucet off and unceremoniously wipes his mouth on his sleeve (sorry Mum, he was definitely taught better).  
Harry's head clears a bit and he turns to walk into the living room again. But that bloody song is still playing and Harry severely dislikes that song. He does. He takes his phone out of the back pocket of his black skinnies and looks at the time. It takes him embarrassingly long to decipher it. Past midnight which means it's officially Louis' birthday. And Christmas Eve. Not in that order, Harry thinks. Or was it? He is still so tipsy. Harry somehow manages to put the phone back and turns around quickly when he hears somebody clearing their throat behind him. It's Louis. Of course it bloody is.

"Heyyyyy, Lou"

Louis does not look impressed. He might even look slightly pissed. And not in the fun- drunk way, no. Harry blushes. If Louis' ice blue eyes could stop looking at him like he did something bad that would be nice. Oh, Louis said something, maybe.

"Did y' say somethin'?"

"I did. You need some fresh air and some water." Louis' lips are pressed together so hard Harry can barely see them. 

Louis definitely pissed. And definitely not in the fun-drunk way.

"Already had that. Talked to hot Luke outside and just had some water as well, why else would I be in your kitchen?"

Louis rolls his eyes and turns around.

"I'm getting Liam."

Oh no. Getting Liam is bad. Especially when Liam is drinking as well, because tipsy Liam is a very honest Liam who does not give two shits (just one shit) about being friendly or getting Harry more drinks because Louis was talking to him.   
Liam joins Harry in the kitchen after a moment, saying something to Louis Harry is not able to hear before straightening up and grabbing Harry by the arm, dragging him outside.  
Once they are on the patio (again) there is suddenly a pint of water in Harry's hand and Liam tells him to drink. Harry drinks.

"H, you wanted to talk to Louis tonight, remember?"

"But I did Li, he talked to me as well! 's all good!"

"That's not what I meant. You wanted to _talk_ to Louis. About what you told me at Costa the other day. You need to be a bit more sober for that. Drink."

Harry drinks. Sadly, it's water.

"Okay, Lima. I will. Pinky promise."

Liam sighs, but links their pinkies.

"Don't call me Lima, I'm not a bloody city. Pinky promise. 'm going back inside. Don't drink anything but water for the rest of the night, Harry." He turns around and walks back to their friends.

"Okay. Tell Louis that the Queen song was really shit and that I hate it!" Harry shouts after him.

Of course the music stops right when Harry shouts at Liam to tell Louis that. Of course everybody hears. And of course Louis' head yanks around, looking straight a Harry, distaste written all across his face. Harry is screwed.   


Louis shoves his glass into Calvin's? chest. Yeah, Calvin probably. Louis walks straight over to Harry right as the next song starts playing. Oh-oh.

"What did you tell Liam to tell me?"

Louis sounds angry. This is not good. This is not how Harry imagined talking to Louis for the past two days.

"Sorry you heard that. Enjoying the party?"

Maybe Harry can still save the conversation. Okay, maybe not, judging from Louis rolling his eyes and was that a gnarl?

"Don't you bloody dare evade the question. 'S my birthday and I asked you something. So." Harry didn't know Louis' voice could ever be so cold.

"I told Liam to tell you that I don't like that Queen song. Happy?"

"Oh, so you don't like that Queen song? Really? Since when."

Louis' tone is daring, mocking, challenging Harry, as if he wants Harry to admit a lie. But it's not a lie. Not really. Harry really does not like that song. And it's because of Louis. He feels very sober all of a sudden.

"Of course I bloody hate that song! Just like I hate all the other songs we used to listen to together! You know why? Because I have to fucking skip almost every single song if I put my music on shuffle! Because every single fucking song reminds me of our time together and then it reminds me of how you just fucking disappeared out of my life like it was nothing and I just…  
You fucking _ruined_ my favorite bloody song for me! Sometimes I can't even stand the opening chords of sweet disposition before I have have to skip and keep myself from bloody throwing my phone across the room! And it's not fucking fair, Louis!!"

Harry takes a deep breath. He should feel relieved and just leave this now, he already said enough, but of fucking course Louis decides to not let it go.

"Oh it's not fair?! _Really_? That's bloody rich coming from you, Harry. Ever thought about why I withdrew? Hmm? That maybe, just maybe, I let you go without saying something because I thought it was going to hurt less for both of us if there weren't any moments left between us that could end in goodbyes and tears? That I did it so both of us, but you especially had the chance to experience your first semester without me looming over you from 90 minutes away? So yes, I left you without saying anything because you deserve better than that one guy from your hometown with the Yorkshire accent and 6 siblings. These things never work out Harry, they never do, and I did not want it to hurt. Turns out this didn't fucking help either but fuck you, honestly, for telling me why I acted like I did." Louis takes a deep breath, his hands trembling.

"Seriously? You're telling me off for telling you how to feel when you're over there casually telling me you made a decision on my behalf no even considering that I might have wanted something else? You don't fucking to that to your— whatever the fuck we were because I KNOW we never made it official but we were fucking dating regardless of what we called each other. You took me to all those dates, just the two of us, Louis, and you were more tactile and we had all those moments for fuck's sake!"

"Okay, fine, but then please tell me why the everloving fuck you shut me out once we got our A- Level results and committed to different unis, because what the fuck made you think that we'd be studying at opposite ends of this bloody island when our universities are literally 90, NINETY minutes apart and there is a bloody direct train connecting them?!"

Their voices are loud, Harry knows that, they are practically shouting at each other in Louis' garden while his birthday party is still going on inside, probably fueled by Niall and Calvin who are amazing at entertaining and coming up with the silliest games and challenges to keep everybody happy. He couldn't care less about that stupid party right now. And fuck Louis, honestly. Harry knows he may have made some mistakes in the past, but how dare Louis act like he is all innocent.

"I shut you out after the A- Level results? Really? How about you shut me out after we came back from watching that film? When we went on that DATE together and held hands at the cinema and shared popcorn and we both barely knew what the film was about because we were so busy whispering about shit-all to each other? How about on the car ride back when we kissed in front of my Mum's and all I wanted was for you to fucking say _SOMETHING_ about this and what had just happened but all you did was fucking hug me and practically throw me out of the bloody car wishing me a good night?! Remember that?"

Harry huffs. The _audacity_ Louis has!

"Of course I bloody remember Harry! Ever stopped to think I didn't say anything after that kiss because I didn't want to ruin the moment by stuttering about and making this awkward? Hmm?! Ever stopped to think that maybe I didn't say anything because I wanted that conversation to happen at a better time? When we were both not tired, or caught up in kissing for the first time, or in my mum's car?! Ever thought about that? Or that maybe it was enough for that moment to just enjoy the time we had together? I know everybody thought we were a proper couple and it bloody felt like it as well, but the moment after our kiss just did not feel like the right moment for me to say anything. And by the way, you could've bloody said something as well!"

"Well, 'm glad you can tell me now while we are fucking shouting at each other in your garden at your birthday party fucking 101 days after. Much better timing, really! I fucking hated the feeling of not knowing. Still fucking hate it. Where we stood then, where we stand now, what the fuck was going on, how you bloody felt, this thing between us going from literally all to nothing in what felt like a day…. EVERYTHING!! And I didn't even get to properly see you off and say goodbye to you! And you never replied to my fucking text either, like what in the world was I supposed to think? Hmm?!"

"Oi get off it, Harry, honestly. I didn't reply to that bloody text because first I was busy and then I saw that you were having the time of your life during Fresher's week judging from your Facebook and I felt like I wasn't needed or wanted in your life so excuse me if I didn't fucking reply to your bloody text! Ever stopped to think about how much that hurt? Seeing that you evidently didn't need me in your life any more? And for the record, just so that I've said everything, it felt so bloody weird when your shoes weren't in the hallway any longer after you had already fucked off to uni, because I had gotten so used to them being there."

"Really? That's something you wanted to fucking tell me? That you missed my shoes in your hallway?! I can't believe it. Bloody fantastic, Louis, well done. If that's all then happy birthday again and MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS. Twat."

Harry doesn't look back and just storms back inside, passing Liam and Niall and whoever else is watching, Harry doesn't care, leaving  the Tomlinson house through the front door. He just wants to get away from here and go home. He is ready to just fall into bed and shed some angry tears. Louis bloody Tomlinson can piss off.

____________________

Christmas happens without any incidents involving a 5-foot-7-who-claims-to-be-5-foot-9 lad with a Yorkshire accent, blue eyes and the softest fringe in all the land. Keeping himself busy and turning his phone of might be a deciding a factor as to why this is possible. Harry wakes up earlier than anticipated after an awful night's sleep and has a quiet cuppa in the kitchen. He knows his mum is dying to ask him how the party went but Harry doesn't feel like talking. He spends the rest of Christmas eve baking up a storm of Christmas cookies ("Stress-baking" his mum utters under her breath when Harry tells Robin what he is doing in the kitchen) and helps prepare dinner for Christmas Eve. Gemma comes downstairs sometime after noon and "helps" him a little with decorating the cookies (she "accidentally" drops some fruit into the melted chocolate and proceeds to declare the pot her very own personal chocolate fondue). He does not leave the house and skips the Christmas carol and nativity play to set the table (which is done in 15 minutes so it turns more into (not) sulking on his bed while waiting for the roast to be ready). The only almost incident that happens is when Niall calls the house on Christmas Day when Harry is still not sulking in his bed upstairs thank you very much, but Gems answers and tells him Harry's asleep. He thanks her for that later. Maybe she's not too bad after all (he's probably never going to admit that out loud). She tells him that Niall wanted to wish everybody Happy Christmas and to tell him that he needs to talk to him about something that happened after Harry left. Harry pretends he's not curious. When he is not busying himself Harry spends a lot of time in his childhood bedroom thinking about the argument he had with Louis and what they both said, and he is surprised he isn't angrier. There was a lot of shouting and comments that stung Harry a bit (a lot), but more than everything he is relieved that the important things have been said. At least on his side, and judging from Louis' last, so very off topic comment, he did as well. Bloody missing his shoes in the hallway, how was he even supposed to respond to that? Harry also tries not to think about all the perfectly explainable and human answers Louis had for his behavior, because it would be admitting that they both screwed up and should've talked about many things a lot sooner, well, at all, really. That still doesn't make it any easier or clearer for Harry to know where they stand. Uncomfortable silence on his part probably. He's not sure there is anything left to do, or mend. Yes, they finally told each other that they had been dating unofficially indeed, and that they did have non- platonic feelings for each other, but that doesn't matter now, does it. Harry can't really do anything about it anyways and Louis clearly would rather he stay out of his life unfortunately. He just wants his Louis back, in whatever capacity possible.

Overall it's not Harry's best Christmas, but it certainly isn't his worst either. He loves spending excessive amounts of time with Robin, Mum and Gemma, and all the various relatives that manage to come by. He has a long phone call with his Dad where they mostly talk about his first term at uni while Harry cuddles Dusty. So when the evening of Boxing Day rolls around Harry feels proper relaxed, home-d out, well-fed and very loved.   
On the 27th the Styles- Twist household goes on their traditional post- Christmas walk around the town and into the forest. It's a very cold but sunny day with clear blue sky, and the 10 miles walk they do every year is only survived by munching on Christmas cookies and drinking hot tea out of the thermo.  
It is when they get back home while the sun sets that Harry finally turns his phone back on. He is glad he always has it on silent because the sheer amount of messages popping up is enough as it is without any vibration or noise accompanying it. He looks at the missed calls first and sees 7 from Niall, 12 from Liam and 2 from Ellie, but they are all from soon after he left Louis' party so he doesn't bother to call back. His mails are mostly Boxing Day offers, so he deletes them, and one from one of his class' tutors wishing them all a relaxing holiday season before starting the next term in the new year. His whatsapp messages are mostly overflowing Holiday wishes in the various group messages from uni and from his more distant friends.

Niall sent him a christmas tree emoji and the side eyes but Harry can't be bothered trying to decipher those hieroglyphs. What is it with Liam and Niall sending emoji messages instead of using real words? Or leaving a voice message?  
Harry doesn't know if he leaves Liam's message for last consciously or if it's just a reflex, a habit by now, knowing that Liam's messages tend to be the bearer of news he does not want to hear.  
The first message of a few is a voice message Liam left clearly while he was still at Louis' party.

"Hi H, where are you? Last time I saw you you seemed to have a heated discussion with Louis but then you just walked right past me after and I haven't seen you since? Are you still here? Did you go home? Because if you went home you forgot your coat. Anyways, what I wanted to say is, uhmm, okay, shit, sorry, just went to the bathroom because it's quieter there. Anyways, where was I? Oh, I remember! Okay so, I just thought I'd let you know that I just had to save Louis from trying to hug their Christmas tree and fall into the candles on the window sill next to it. Was proper hard, mate, like, he was so insistent on hugging that bloody tree! Said 'I just wanna hug him, he's so pretty with the green eyes, and can't you see how he actually radiates warmth and light?' Like, why would he do that? Guess he is proper drunk. Lad deserves it though, it's his birthday after all. Whoop whoop!! Anyways, hope I'll see you before Soph and I head home, but Happy Christmas if we don't see each other before! Feel hugged, see ya around!"   
  
Why would Liam think that Louis hugging a tree babbling about green eyes was relevant information for Harry? And Liam better took Harry's coat with him when he left.  
The text message after read "Where are you? Louis is hugging a plush footie and refuses to let go of it." Oh. So Louis had been hugging Harry's birthday present to him after he left. Doesn't matter though, Harry thinks. People do strange things when they are drunk.  
There are two more texts after that, one a picture of Louis clearly asleep on his bed, holding the footie tight to his chest, his body almost protectively wrapped around it, the other one reads "Couldn't find you when I made the rounds to say goodbye, so just texting you, hope that's okay. See ya, mate! x"

And just like that the calmness and serenity Harry has crafted so carefully since the early morning hours of Christmas Eve is completely gone.

**____________________**

Harry tries not to think too much about what Louis' behavior from the birthday party might mean in regards to how Louis feels about him. He fails miserably, and it's pretty much the only thing he can think about. Does that mean Louis cares about him? Does that mean Louis just likes the plush footie and is glad to have a new one since Harry still has his old one? Does Louis trying to hug the Christmas tree and making that comment mean that he was thinking about him and wanting to hug him? It's almost cynical how many new questions Harry has, just when he thought all the questions he had for Louis got answered. Would be too nice if things would just be easy, a simple yes or no, black or white, in or out.  
Typical.   
  
He ends up telling Mum, Robin and Gems about Louis from last summer to the party after he gets a little snappy at Gemma during dinner which leads to his Mum demanding an explanation for his behavior. Sometimes Harry feels like nothing has changed at home and that he hasn't properly lived here for almost four months, but it feels good. The hotel feels from his first few days have definitely disappeared and Harry is grateful for that.

"You know, he's like that one annoying song that gets stuck in your head, right? The reason it gets stuck there in the first place is because you love it so much and listen to it excessively, but then you listen to it one too many times and it gets annoying, and you groan every time somebody else brings it up or plays it because you had _just_ forgotten about it. And then the song fades in your memory and you listen to other songs and bop along but none of them get stuck like this one song did? After you haven't listened to or heard the song in a while, it randomly pops up on shuffle and you fall in love with it all over again and it gets stuck in your head once again?" Harry looks up to see if his family understands. They look back at him like he's a hurt puppy somehow. Gemma clears her throat.  
"Harry, Louis is not the song stuck in your head, he's the song stuck in your heart." Harry feels his chest tighten at that statement, because it rings so true. Louis is the song stuck in his heart. He just wishes it could be a happier song. Fuck.

"Oh honey, I wish you'd've told me sooner. What are you going to do about it? For what it's worth though, Louis did seem proper in love with you last summer."

He shrugs at his mum's words. Doesn't matter how Louis felt last summer, feelings can change and it's been 107 days. It's not like Harry can do anything but silently long to have his best friend back. He misses how carefree they were and their cuddles and holding Louis' hand (or sometimes both when they were cuddling in bed) and being close to him. Being able to count the freckles on his cheeks and see the gold specks in his eyes and admire the unfairly long lashes and the cheekbones and the lips and- fuck.

Harry might still be in love with Louis, no matter how hard he tried to fall out of love in the past months, to get Louis unstick from his head. Or heart, whatever. This is so stupid, so so stupid! Who falls in love with his best friend, sort of dates him, has a sort- of falling out, doesn't talk to him for 103 days, has a major fight with him at his birthday party and still manages to not be over said best friend? Harry Edward Styles, that's who. He is so screwed. Because there is no way Louis feels even remotely the same. Their argument proved that enough. Harry guesses he will just have to be lovesick and pining after his former best friend, ex- boyfriend, whatever, _Louis_ , for the rest of his life. No, Harry is not overly dramatic, thank you very much. He excuses himself from the table, putting his dishes in the dishwasher (another amazing thing about being home) and goes upstairs to his room to not sulk.

**____________________**

Gemma takes him out for brunch the next day to "take his mind off a certain person, because fuck him for making you feel this way". Harry tells her not to swear which lands him a shove in the ribs. Harry can't help but giggle. He still gives her the finger though. They are right when they say that balance is important. It's nice to spend time with Gemma, just the two of them. Living in a small town means that there aren't a lot of proper brunch options, so they end up at _The Compass_ which has a late breakfast offer. They both get a full English and manage to avoid the L- topic entirely, instead gossiping about Gemma's coworkers. Harry tells her some stories from uni and then interrogates her about how things are going between her and Michael and that she should've invited him over for Christmas. After brunch Harry walks his sister to the train station because she is meeting with some friends from Sixth form in Manchester, like she does every year on the 28th of December, and stops by Costa to grab himself an Americano to go.

He orders and stands at the counter waiting for his caffeine when he hears an unmistakable voice behind him.

"Hi Haz!"

Louis. Of all the people Harry could've run into it had to be Louis. Of course. He swallows hard and turns around.

"Oh, hi Louis, didn't see you there."

Louis alone at a table in the corner, though he seems to be here with Jay and the youngest twins judging from the coat and the baby bottles on the table. Thankfully his coffee is ready, and Harry has every intention of just leaving the coffeeshop, not wanting to interfere in Louis' time with his mum (and also maybe not spending more time than necessary with Louis because knowing he doesn't feel the same as Harry _hurts_ .)    
Louis seems to have other plans.

"Want to sit down? Mum's currently changing the twins' nappies and taking them outside for a bit in the hopes they'll fall asleep."

"I mean if you want me to?"

"Definitely, go sit!"

Harry takes his Barbour off and sits down.

"So… How was your Christmas, Louis?"

Conversation starts to flow slowly after that. Louis tells him about the humongous mountain of presents under the tree and having to convince the older twins that 4am might be a little early to open Christmas presents, and how Lottie loved the contouring palette he gave her. Harry tells him about Christmas cookies (conveniently leaving out the stress baking bit) and Gemma getting a necklace from Michael and Mum being over the moon about the cheese platter thingy him and Gemma got her.  
Harry drinks his Americano, Louis sips on a mug of Yorkshire. They sit there quietly for a bit, each of them lost in their own thoughts.  
Harry almost doesn't register the song playing through the speakers if it weren't for Louis sitting up a little straighter and looking at him expectantly. He concentrates on the tune and sure enough, it's one of _their_ songs. Of course it is.  
He can't help but grin though.

"Do you still mess up the lyrics when you sing along?" Louis huffs ins response.

"I beg your pardon? I have never messed up the lyrics to that song! She really does sing _starbucks orders,_ thank you very much."

"It's _long list of ex lovers,_ Lou. List of ex lovers. Not starbucks orders!" Harry can't help but tease him back, left dimple on full display. It doesn't matter if it's starbucks orders or list of ex lovers, Louis and Harry had usually ended up singing starbucks orders as loudly as possible last summer, just for the laughs, and because Harry knew it made Louis happy.  
Harry thinks about how beautiful Louis looks in his new peach-colored jumper and his slightly messy hair that manages to frame his face perfectly. He tries not to think about how the color of the jumper brings out the blue in Louis' eyes. Or how it matches the color of Louis' lips. Or how kissable those lips are.

"I better get going,  Jay must be coming back any minute and I don't want to interrupt you two." Harry is not running. He's being considerate and thoughtful.

"Oh, don't worry, I don't mind and I'm sure Mum wouldn't mind either. I'd say the same for Dodo and Ernie but they are hopefully sleeping when the three of them come back."

"No really, I should get going. Thanks though."

"Well if you must…" Louis seems a little sad almost, unwilling to let Harry go just yet. Harry blames his observation on wishful thinking and projection, not the truth. "Before you leave though, I just wanted to say sorry if I said anything that offended you at my birthday party. I noticed you must've left straight after without putting your coat on. Mum washed it for you, I'd love to stop by and give it back to you sometime."

That is — unexpected. Not only because Harry had honestly forgotten about the coat (or at least assumed that Liam had taken it home with him), but also because Louis' voice is so soft and he looks at his hands after finishing the sentence. Harry did not expect him being so considerate and helpful, not after their fight.

"Thanks, Lou, that'd be grand. See you around. Oh, and for what it's worth: I did have the most wonderfully perfect summer with you. Please don't ever think I'll change my mind about that. No matter where the two of us end up."

He quickly grabs his jacket and leaves the Café. He does not flee the scene in fear of what Louis might answer, and he most certainly does not avoid looking into Jay's eyes as he passes her in front of the Costa with the twins sleeping in their push-chair, just shooting her a quick "Happy holidays".

____________________

Harry doesn't hear from Louis for the rest of the day. Or the next day. He is tempted to text him but then he gets busy with helping his mum sort through some old clothes and making a few runs to different Charity shops, and he meets Niall for a pint to make up for leaving the pub early over a week ago, and almost forgets about his coat again until he gets a text message from Louis on New Year's Eve's Eve.

_Hi H. Still have your coat. I could stop by and give it back after_   
_lunch today if you're home? Might be good to have a warmer_   
_coat for Niall's party tomorrow. x_

Harry's brain tells him to not overthink the kiss at the end of the message. Harry's heart doesn't listen. He walks downstairs and chugs down a glass of water before answering.

_After lunch is great. See you at around 2? H x_

His mum definitely notices that Harry is giddy from then on, bouncing all through the house and chasing after a sleepy Gemma for hugs. He claims it's nothing, just Louis bringing him his coat back after lunch. His mum just quirks an eyebrow but leaves him be, knowing that Harry will tell her sooner or later anyways.

 

Time can't pass fast enough until 2pm. Everything seems to be going so slowly and he swears there's something wrong with his phone after he looks at it for the tenth time and sees that barely 10 minutes have passed. Objectively he knows that this is nothing big, just Louis bringing Harry's winter coat back, because regardless of some of his past behavior he does have manners. And they just started talking again the other day. Just normal small talk, a little conversation. But Harry feels so alive, like he's finally, finally home again, since their encounter at Costa, knowing that there is an actual chance they can become friends again. It thrills him. After all, no matter what happens, he will be happy to have Louis back in his life at any capacity. As long as they don't go without a single word between them for more than 100 days. Because Harry is sure he would not be able to go through that a second time.

During lunch Gemma is suddenly meeting a friend on the high street for some last minute fireworks shopping and Robin and his mum are invited at the neighbor's for some tea. Harry thinks they are being very subtle. Not. He appreciates the gesture regardless.  
Lunch is over faster than Harry hoped and after his family leaves him behind (those traitors. Just kidding, he loves them) he tries to kill the remaining hour and a bit by distracting himself. He turns on the radio but the songs aren't that good, switches to the news but nothing is happening in the world either and there isn't enough time to watch an entire episode of any of his shows really, so he settles for pestering Dusty, the poor soul, and nervously pacing up and down the hallway. Harry knows he is being ridiculous, like a teenager with a crush (which is not too far from the truth but he refuses to be put in the same category as 13 year olds since he is legally an adult), but he can't help it. It's Louis who is coming over after all, not just some random guy.

 

In the end the time slips through his fingers, like quicksand, and suddenly Harry wishes he could have a bit more time. He feels oddly unprepared. His palms are sweaty and he is thirsty, so he grabs himself a glass of water from the kitchen and wipes his hands on the kitchen towel right before the doorbell rings. His heart is beating so fast and he forces himself to take a few deeps breaths before opening the door.  
Louis looks beautiful, if not a little shy (which is usually only the case if something important to him happens), standing on the porch wearing a big scarf and a green wool jumper, his hands engulfed in sweater paws. His nose is a little red from the cold and so are his cheeks, but he is smiling at Harry, holding the winter coat out in front of him.

"Hi Haz, how are you?"

"Hi Lou! Great, thanks, want to come in for a cuppa? You look a little cold."

"I'd love to if it's not a bother."

Harry stretches out his arms to hold the door open and let Louis in, but somehow Louis mistakes the open arm as an invitation to a hug, almost throwing himself at Harry. He falls back into the door, holding onto Louis so they don't both fall, loving how Louis' body feels against his. He missed this, their cuddles and hugs specifically, and Louis has always been a phenomenal hugger. They stand like this for a minute or two, Harry relishing in being able to hold Louis again, feeling his head pressed against his chest, burying his chin in the nape of Louis' neck. It's like two puzzle pieces slotting together. They fit. They always have.  
When they finally let go of each other Harry is almost sure that Louis is blushing, but Harry is quite certain that his cheeks are redder than they can be from being in the cold for that short as well.  
Harry takes his coat from Louis and they end up in the kitchen where Harry puts on the kettle.

"Yorkshire?"

Louis nods, plopping down on one of the chairs, watching Harry take out two mugs and getting the milk. So what if Harry ~~purposefully~~  coincidentally picks Louis' favorite mug from last summer. It is a wonderful mug, beige, natural clay, an anchor carved into it and filled out with blue paint. Harry himself prefers the one with the compass. They sit in silence watching the kettle as if it were the most interesting thing ever, Louis kneading his hands and Harry busying himself by taking out two teabags and spoons. When the water is finally boiling he prepares the teas, Louis' with a splash of milk, no sugar, and his with almond milk and a teaspoon of brown sugar.  
Louis and Harry stay at the kitchen table, warming their hands on the mugs (they are the perfect size for that). Harry can't help but look at Louis who seems to have gone all mushy as soon as he took the first sip, slouching in the chair, one knee propped up against the table. He looks comfortable. If Harry's legs weren't that long, and if he wasn't as clumsy as he is, he would probably copy Louis. Instead he settles for stretching his legs out under the table.

"So…"

"Uhm.."

Louis snorts. Of course they would both try and break the silence at the same time.

"You go first, Lou."

"Okay, sure. Thanks for the cuppa, Harry, I see you're still able to make it just the way I like it. You on the other hand are still drinking that abomination of a concoction. Will you ever learn?"

Louis voice is teasing, the manifestation of _all bark no bite_ , as he takes another exaggerated sip from his mug.

"Oi, sod off, it's nice that way, you should try it sometime", Harry retorts.

"You make me my cuppa so well though, can't have you unlearn your very necessary skills."

"Well, if you say so, Tomlinson…"

Harry can't help but giggle. He missed that side of Louis (not that he didn't miss all of his other sides as well), all teasing with that shit-eating grin on his face, wrinkled eyes, and the quirked eyebrow, waiting for Harry to retaliate.   
They banter on, taking breaks to drink their tea.  
When Louis asks him about what did over Christmas he tells him about it (conveniently leaving out the times he definitely did not spend pining and sulking in his bedroom).

"Still a tree hugger then, I suppose?" Louis quips up when Harry gets to the part of their annual post- Christmas walk.

"You're one to talk, Louis. a little Liam-shaped birdy told me you tried to hug the Christmas tree at your birthday party. Care to comment?"

"That was once time, at my birthday, while I was drunk and the tree was cut anyways so it doesn't count"

"Kidding, Louis. You can go hug all the trees in the world for all I care."

Louis finishes his cup of tea and slowly gets up.

"I should get going, Haz, Mum and Dan will need an extra hand. They're letting the older twins stay up for the fireworks this year and Daisy and Phoebe have been running around super excited since then. But thanks again for the cuppa."

"No problem, really. Sounds like your hands will be full then. Thanks for bringing me my coat back, I was starting to miss it.  
\- Oh, just leave the mug there, I'll get it later."

"Well if you say so, thanks. By the way, we should text about Niall's New Year's thing tomorrow."

"Yeah sure, we should do that."

Harry walks Louis to the door, watches as Louis put on his huge scarf again, waiting to say goodbye. Once Louis is ready he opens the front door, expecting Louis to just walk through it, but instead he finds himself in another hug. Not that he's complaining.   
He really did miss those hugs, he doesn't know how he went that long without them. Nothing compares to the feeling he gets when Louis hugs him. Harry lets himself hold on a little tighter and sinks a little deeper into the embrace. He's hug-starved so he's allowed, thank you very much.  
Harry is so lost in the hug that he almost misses Louis' lips moving against his chest, almost misses Louis whisper into Harry's sweater before he lets go of the hug and quickly walks down onto the street.

 

"I'm still falling for you, Haz."

**____________________**

Louis' statement, confession, whatever you want to call it, does not freak Harry out. And it is definitely not the only thing Harry will ever think about ever again. He is pretty sure that Louis actually said that, actually said that he is still falling for him, Harry, because why on earth would his brain ever make that up? Especially with everything that has happened in the past week? So yeah, Harry has every right to freak out. It's not every day your sort- of former boyfriend/ date that you are (still) in love with hints at you that he might feel the same. He needs to talk to somebody about this. This is huge.

Normally he'd talk to his family but they are  _busy_  and therefore out of question. He calls Niall first, because Niall is always up for a pint, but that bloody prick doesn't pick up his phone. Even though he read his (not panicked) whatsapp messages.  
An odd sense of relief flows through him when Liam picks up his phone after the first ring.

"Hi Harry, you good?"

"Oh thank fuck, you picked up, Niall that fucker leaves me on read on whatsapp and I just need somebody to talk to!"

"Okay, sure, what happened? He told me you might call."

"He told you I might call but doesn't care to take my calls? Or call me back? What the fuck?"

"He's Irish, don't expect him to always make rational decisions. You wanna talk?"

"Yeah, you home? Can we meet somewhere?"

"That important? Sure. Costa in half an hour?" Liam sounds like he is biting back a giggle. Harry doesn't care, he needs to talk.

"Okay, see you there." 

 

When they meet at Costa 30 minutes later they don't even bother getting a coffee or going inside. Instead, they just start walking along the canal, Harry updating Liam on everything that happened in the past week. Harry can't believe that it's only been that short. His conversation with Liam feels a lifetime ago.

"And then we hugged goodbye and he, I swear to go I am not making this up, he said _I'm still falling for you, Haz._ Like, what the fuck? And then before I can say anything he literally runs back onto the street and I'm just standing there in the doorframe, mouth hanging wide open like a lunatic. You don't leave somebody hanging after springing something like that on them! It's not fair! Like, what am I supposed to do now? I can't just pretend this didn't happen and we're all going to be at Niall's tomorrow and AAAAAAARGH, LIAM!!"

"H, breathe. 'S pretty obvious to me what you're going to do next, mate, it's not that difficult. You text him, tell him you heard, that you're in love with him too and then you attend Niall's party tomorrow together, kiss at midnight and BAM! Proper couple. See? Not that hard." He looks at Harry like he's just asked him if one plus one really equals two.

"Not that hard my arse. I can't just tell him I love him back? What if he doesn't want a relationship? Have you thought about that?"

"Harry, honestly. It really is not that difficult. I know 100% that Louis feels the same way because Niall may or may not be at Louis' right now having a similar conversation I'd imagine. You'll be fine. Also, just see where not talking about how you feel got you last summer."

So this is why Niall didn't pick up the bloody phone! Liam has a point though, Harry does not want a summer 2.0. Which is highly unlikely anyways, especially if Niall being at Louis' right now is true. He owes that bloody Irish Leprechaun and Liam Payne-in-the-arse if this works out. He tells Liam as much.

"When this works out. Not if. Now go and bloody text Louis. I better see the two of you arriving together tomorrow or I might have to slap some sense into you. Both of you."

 

Harry texts Louis once he's back home, in the safety of his childhood bedroom, and after pondering what to write for longer that he'd like to admit. In the end, he settles on

_Hi Lou, thanks again for stopping by and_   
_delivering the coat in person. You doing_   
_anything before Niall's tomorrow? x_

The answer comes almost instantly.

_Of course I did, wanted to see you again._   
_Will be busy with the siblings until 5 or_   
_so, but I'll be free after. Why? x_

Harry does not fist bump.

_Sweet. Want to come over to mine when_   
_you're off duty? I promised Niall I'd make_   
_Sangria and might need some help. x_

_What a question, I love me some good_   
_Sangria, I'll be there at quarter past._   
_Looking forward to it! x_

_It's a date ;) x_

 

Niall is only too happy when Harry tells him he's spontaneously bringing Sangria to the party, and can barely contain his excitement when Harry admits that Louis might come over to help him with it. Harry deletes his "Not ruined" playlist and instead makes one named "L.W.T." after he ends the call with Niall.

**____________________**

Harry doesn't mind that his first official date with Louis is them making Sangria for Niall's New Year's Eve Party. Louis and him had always liked spending time together just the two of them for the weirdest reasons and this is nothing else, apart form the fact that they actually called it a date this time. If anything, Harry finds, it's actually quite perfect, ending this year with a date and, later, hopefully starting the new one together together.

As promised, Louis shows up at quarter past 5 in the afternoon, backpack filled with what Harry assumes are the essentials for staying over at Niall's for the night. Because that's what they always do when Niall hosts a bigger party. Lots of food, booze, friends, and fun, and then Niall's closest friends (the ten of them) spend the night in the Horan attic, aptly renamed the "mattress cave".  
Louis helps him make the Sangria while they listen to loads of music (as they tend to do). After the Sangria is all ready and cooling down in the fridge, soaking the fruits in alcohol they clean up after themselves, because Harry likes a clean kitchen and Louis likes not making Anne regret letting them prepare drinks in her home. The end up winding each other up with silly dance moves and bad lip synching after, using spoons as microphones and the kitchen table as a stage. Harry is glad his Mum and Robin are invited to some friends for a New Year's dinner and Gemma took the train to see Michael yesterday evening and won't be back until next year. Harry is already looking forward to all the New Year's jokes he will be able to tell. All the cliché "Haven't showered since last year", "Haven't brushed my teeth since last year",… Tomorrow will be a field day and everybody will just have to deal with it.  
At 7:30 they grab their overnight bags and the bowl of Sangria and make their way to Niall's where they arrive at half an hour later, right on time.

 

The host opens the door almost immediately, as if he had been standing in the hallway waiting for his guests to arrive, beer in his hand and a party hat on his head. When Niall sees who arrives he takes the Sangria off Harry before hugging them both fiercely at the same time, muttering something that sounds very much like "Fucking finally, so happy for you!" Harry blushes. They did not talk about _that_ yet but they will. Not now though. Later. Definitely this year.

"You're actually not the first ones to arrive. Ellie is here already, she helped me set up some stuff earlier."

Oh, that is interesting. Harry will definitely have to grab her later and ask a few questions.

"As always, make yourselves feel right at home, drinks are in the fridge and the ice bucket on the patio, buffet is in the kitchen, you must wear your party accessories at all times, no puking, no fornicating, kisses must be documented with pictures or they didn't happen, you know the drill." And with that, Niall leaves them standing in the hallway.

They look at each other, nothing new here, and walk to the kitchen to put the Sangria on the buffet table, and pouring themselves a glass. Harry finds the "party accessories", as Niall called them, in the living room.

Louis immediately grabs the pink feather boa, and Harry would be jealous that Louis clearly grabbed the best accessory, if he hadn't set his eye on a scarf with chimney sweepers and four-leaf clovers on them. He will need all the luck he needs tonight. When he asks Louis to tie the scarf into his hair he happily obliges. Harry does not get goosebumps from the gentle touches or the feeling of Louis dragging his hands through his hair.   
The Horan estate quickly fills with more and more people, their group of friends, some people from their 6th form that Harry barely remembers the names of, a few of Niall's old friends, and some of Niall's millions of friends from university. Harry can't say he's surprised at the amount of people Niall knows. There must be at least 40 people spread across the living room and patio, and there's music playing in the background. Some people are dancing, some a talking, some are eating, some are drinking, some are doing all four of those things at the same time (Harry admires their coordination, but sticks to drinking and dancing for now).  
The evening processes quickly, Harry makes the rounds talking to people at first but then mostly stands in a more quiet corner with Louis sharing a plate of cheesy nachos. Harry would love to talk things out with him now, but this must be the most inconvenient place to do so. He hopes they will have the chance to do so before midnight though. Harry would hate to leave this year with no clear answers. At around 11pm Niall gathers them around to show them a new video that is apparently German tradition to watch at New Years, and so they end up watching a black and white short film about James the Butler tripping over the stuffed tiger's head and getting more and more pissed as the night goes on. Harry does not let out a sound that resembles a crow's cry more than laughter at the innuendo at the end, no he doesn't. Louis, who has been tucked under his arm since they shared the nachos pokes him in his side and looks at him questioningly. Harry shrugs.

"The end was quite funny."

"If you say so… I'll just go over to talk to Calvin and Oli for a second if that's alright?"

Louis leaves him to talk to their friends and Harry suddenly feels a little forlorn, like there's a part of him missing. How the fuck did he end up feeling like this so fast? They've only barely gotten most of their shit together the other day, he's not supposed to need Louis' presence this much already. But then again, it's been half a year since they've been so chummy and Harry does fall into habits quickly.  
He manages to take Ellie aside quickly when she passes by, asking her about the thing between her and Niall, but Ellie, having clearly watched to many episodes of West Wing, just winks at him and tells him that "her reliable sources can neither confirm nor deny the rumor at this time" but that she "will happily keep you updated and provide you with new information as the situation progresses" before excusing herself to the kitchen. Harry looks for Louis after that but can't find him, so he grabs himself another drink. He dances some more, shouting the lyrics of Bon Jovi's "It's my life" back at Jodie who shouts them back equally as enthusiastic.

At quarter to midnight Niall gathers everybody and tells them to get ready to go outside for the fireworks. Harry uses that time to use the loo and splash a bit of water in his face. He needs to find Louis before midnight. He also adjusts his had scarf.  
When he comes back to the living room it is significantly emptier than before, as most people are already standing on the patio looking over the town, trying to keep warm by huddling together like penguins.  
Harry grabs himself a champagne flute to toast to the New Year.  
Niall raises his voice to announce that it is officially 60 seconds until the New Year. Everybody cheers. He puts down the flute. Harry really needs to find Louis. Like right now. He wishes Louis were here with him. 

**____________________**

10

He looks across the room, finally finding Louis. He stands in a corner across the room by himself, twirling a filled champagne flute in his fingers, the crease between his eyes indicating he is in deep thought. He looks beautiful like that, his guard completely down, his lashes casting slight shadows on his cheeks.

9

Louis looks up, meeting Harry's gaze from across the room. Blue eyes meet green, and no matter how hard Harry contemplates breaking eye contact, he apparently isn't able to. It's like Louis wanted Harry to look at him and now that he achieved that goal he wants to keep Harry under his spell. Harry happily lets him.

8

It feels like a horrible cliché straight out of a film, but Harry's feet assume a mind of their own, and he starts walking towards Louis, like metal being pulled towards a magnet, like a river making it's way to the sea. Harry doesn't care if there are other people in the room. He isn't even sure there are. They might as well have all left for the balcony outside to watch the first fireworks. It doesn't matter anyways. The only thing his mind, body, and spirit, his entire being, can focus on right now is _LouisLouisLouisLouis._

7

Louis puts down his champagne flute, straightens the collar of his shirt that brings out his beautiful, beautiful eyes and hugs his curves in all the right places, adjusts the feather boa around his neck, and starts coming towards him, his steps measured. So they truly are in this together. They are actually walking towards each other. If Liam could hear Harry's thoughts he would probably say something along the lines of "Of fucking course you are. You're moving, he's moving. Not that difficult to figure out you're walking towards each other. Get a grip already." Harry is glad that Liam can't hear his thoughts.

6

Harry can't make up his mind on whether he wants to slap Louis for everything that happened in the past 7 months and for making Harry fear they might not see each other again until next year, or kiss him for everything that happened in the past week. Every step he takes is like he's counting the petals on a flower. _Kiss. Slap. Kiss. Slap. Left. Right. Left. Right._

5

Determination shows on both of their faces as they are still reluctant to break eye contact. He can see a thousand questions flashing across Louis' face and Harry wants to answer them all, while having equally as many questions for Louis. Harry is aware that he must look very strange, walking towards Louis with that look on his face. Like a borderline creepy stalker, Gemma would probably say. Like a frog who just inhaled a fly, Ellie would probably say. Like a Harry who is in love with Louis, a tiny voice in his head says. He tells that voice to shut up. Harry still hasn't made up his mind.

4

Harry can't help but smirk as he comes to a halt in front of Louis. His brain somehow thinks it would be funny to conjure up Julia Roberts' “I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her“ speech. How fitting. This moment feels as significant. Maybe more. This is real life after all. Fuck.

3

Harry notices the tiny golden speckles in Louis' eyes, and the freckles on his cheek, less prominent compared to last summer, and his slightly chapped lips. He notices the crinkles by his eyes from almost always laughing. Harry wants to be the reason Louis smiles. _Auld Lang Syne_ starts playing in the background. Leave it to Niall to put the emotional New Year's music on at the right time.

2

Louis looks at him with that twinkle in his eyes that Harry had missed so, so much, his lips curling up in a daring smirk, looking up from underneath his unfairly long lashes. Louis knows that this is Harry's weakness. This little shit.  
Harry steps even closer, gently cupping Louis' face with his hands and silently asks for permission. Harry has made up his mind.

1

"Never stopped loving you"  
"It's mutual"

0

Their lips meet, once again.  
(But this time, Harry is certain that he and Louis will talk about it extensively. And definitely kiss some more. After all, Harry thinks, he doesn't mind Louis being the song stuck in his heart.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
>  
> 
> Songs that appear in the fic in chronological order  
> Jason Mraz- You and I both  
> Ed Sheeran- Perfect  
> The Maccabees- Toothpaste Kisses  
> Temper Trap- Sweet Disposition  
> Mumford and sons  
> Hans Zimmer Pearl Harbor Soundtrack- Tennessee  
> Troye Sivan- Talk me down  
> Queen- Don’t stop me now  
> Taylor Swift- Blank Space  
> Auld Lang Syne
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think!
> 
> E .xx


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